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。 He hesitated only a moment； then went up the stairs beneath the protection of the columned portico and rang the brass bell。
Major had used his puter to search for the owner； who turned out to be an elderly woman who had moved to the country to ease her emphysema。 The place was on the market； but according to the Realtor whom Major had roused on his pager； it was currently vacant。 There seemed no point in disabusing him of that notion。
After what seemed a long time； the door opened a wedge。 A young woman with bright eyes and short hair peered out at him quizzically。
〃May I help you？〃 Behind her he could make out a slice of a marble…floored vestibule and the crystal facets of a chandelier。
〃Ah； I believe I'm lost；〃 he said in a rush。 〃I'm looking for〃 … he pulled out a map of London … 〃uh； Eaton Terrace。〃
〃You've been given duff directions； I'm afraid。 This is Eaton Square。〃
〃Oh； damn。〃 He glanced anxiously at his watch。 〃Is it far from here？ I'm terribly late for an appointment。〃
〃No。 D'you have transport？〃
〃A car； you mean？ No。 A taxi dropped me off。〃 He looked out at the sleet。 〃I wonder if I could ask you to phone for another taxi？〃
Those bright eyes regarded him for some time as if he needed to pass some test。 〃Wait here；〃 the woman said； and affixing a short chain to the door sash； left him。
As he heard the click…click of her heels over the marble flooring； he quickly pulled out a roll of electrician's tape Major had given him and； stripping off a piece； ran it over the latch on the edge of the front door； so that it could not lock；
She returned a moment later。 〃Your taxi will be here shortly。〃
〃Thanks so much； Ms。 …〃 But the door had already been shut in his face。
He went back down the steps； hunched his shoulders； and waited for the taxi He did not know whether the woman with the bright eyes was watching him now； but he could not take the risk that she was。 When the cab came； he climbed in and told the driver to take him to Eaton Terrace。 But within a block； he had paid his fare and was hurrying through the clattering sleet up the street。 When he reached the head of Eaton Square； he kept to the shadows； slipping under the portico of the white house。
Holding his breath； he turned the knob on the front door。 As he slipped silently inside； he stripped the tape off the latch。
He moved through the vestibule； listening for anyone； including the woman with the bright eyes。 The place was not at all what he had imagined from the outside。 No overstuffed furniture； Victorian sconces； or ornate fireplaces here。 Instead； the entire interior was cold and modem； painted in black； white； and an icy shade of gray。 Everything had clean lines； precise angles。 Everything was geometric and symmetrical。 Two of everything； wherever it was possible。 Identical mirror images。 It made you want to rearrange or steal something just to restore the natural random order of nature。
He crossed to the foot of a circular； black； wrought…iron staircase。 He could hear a clock ticking； then muffled voices ing from upstairs。 He took off his shoes； went up the metal treads that would magnify even the smallest sound。
The voices became clearer： two women。 He paused at the head of the stairs； looking at the hallway； which branched in two directions； four doors each way； perfectly symmetrical。 Light streamed into the hallway from the last door on the right。
He crept down the hallway； chose the door on his left just before the end。 The room was dark； and he took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust。 He saw a bed； dresser； night table； and a door on the wall closest to the room with the light。 He went through this； found himself in a vast bathroom。 Marble blocks and mirrors everywhere。 On the far side of the bathroom was a connecting door to the far room。 He went to it； put his ear against it。 Then； his hand on the knob； he turned it； allowed the door to open a fraction at a time until a sliver of the lit room beyond was revealed。
Someone crossed in front of the tamp。 Vesper？ No； someone else； a flash of a face that was instantly familiar。
Croaker could see her shadow moving on the wall。 Then； in two strides； she had reached the bathroom door and had pulled it open。 Margarite's sister； Celeste。
12
Yoshino
Yoshino was a sacred place。 It was where； over the centuries； heroes had been forged in blood and sacrifice； where yamabushi made arduous pilgrimages across the steep mountain fastness； where Shugendo； the syncretic and vibrant amalgam of Shintoism and Buddhism； still survived； despite the best efforts of the two…hundred…year reign of the Tokugawa Shogunate to stamp it out。 The Tokugawa； obsessed with power and the abasement of all perceived enemies； real and imagined； had favored Buddhism's formality。 If all Japanese were Buddhists； the shoguns reasoned； they would be registered at their neighborhood temples and； therefore； be easy to keep track of。 Shintoism made no such demands on its followers。 Its only tenets were those dictated by the seasons and by the kami … the spirit … of the area where the Shinto shrine was built。 For Shinto； there is no God； no Buddha； but； rather； the spirit guardians who dwelled in every atom of the universe。
The slopes of Yoshino's mountains were covered by； it was said； one hundred thousand cherry trees； whose splendid blossoms of the palest pink were； for three days in the spring； the most magnificent and moving sight in all of Japan。 It was to Yoshino that a profusion of Japan's emperors over the centuries had made pilgrimages in order to worship the mountains' kami； and it was here the information provided by the Yakuza underoyabun Kine Oto； also known as Zao； had brought Nicholas and Tachi。
〃Zao took V。 I。 Pavlov to see a man here named Niigata；〃 Nicholas said as they headed up the narrow mountain road。 This time of the year； Yoshino was shrouded in mist so deeply one had the impression that the mountain rose to a level just below heaven。
〃According to Zao； this Niigata is something of a recluse and has bee a Shugendo monk。〃
〃I take it that means he used to be something else；〃 Tachi said。
Nicholas nodded； noting that Tachi had only sketchy recall of the interrogation of Zao。 What had the invocation of Shuken done to him？ 〃Yes。 A nuclear physicist。 If that sounds odd； it gets more so。 Niigata returned to Japan six months ago after a lengthy stay in Vietnam。〃
Tachi's neck cracked as he turned from watching the road to glance at Nicholas。 The car jounced violently into a rut and out again； and Nicholas said； 〃Watch it； Tachi！〃
〃Vietnam；〃 the oyabun said。 〃He wouldn't have had contact with Floating City？〃
〃Zao didn't know。 But he knew that Pavlov and Niigata talked about Abramanov。〃
〃We've got our connection to Rock！〃 Tachi said triumphantly as he pulled into a narrow ramped driveway in front of the ryokan where they planned to stay the night。
Blue mist gathered around the slopes of the mountains with such tenacity that they had virtually no view from the windows in their rooms。 The place was one of those new…style ryokan where everything that had once been wood was now either tile or plastic。 There was a TV in the room's toko